#I feel that’s important to say

[insirisarts]

Origins of Olympus - Reimagined

Chapter 1: Welcome to Camp Oasis!

The sun beamed down onto the sand; the sky was clear of any clouds. The heat of the desert would’ve been unbearable for any human unlucky enough to be caught in its never-ending expanses. After all, mortals could not find their way to a place like this, especially not to its oasis. Even if they did, the gods would smite them for trespassing onto the sacred land. A place where the finest of greenery and produce grew; food was abundant, the water was so clean, you could drink it from the source, and filled with fauna so docile, even tigers could have been considered house pets. However, these individuals are by no means ‘mortals’. For these people are children of the gods. Blessed to walk the lands of Gaia with the grand powers of their parents. Striking the earth with powerful volts, bringing the motions of the tides, guiding souls to their final resting place, and even becoming the light of the sun themself.

An echidna stood tall on the entrance platform, backlit by the magic doorway behind her. Orange scales shining in the mid-afternoon sun. Her large wings sat solidly on her back, accentuating her posture. The woman's human upper half was covered with a red-orange dress, which was trimmed and decorated with gold. Gold bracelets were also placed on her upper and lower arms, and on the end of her serpent tail. Each of these bracelets were jeweled with three bright orange stones which matched her fiery irises. Scales traveled up the young woman’s body, spotting her shoulders, ears and face with the same burnt orange as the asymmetrical horns buried in her dark brown hair. Her heavy-lidded eyes surveyed over the slowly building group. Demi-gods to be specific.

“Hello everyone, I am Kaykrea and welcome to the Oasis of Demeter.” Kaykrea introduced, catching the attention of the present demi-gods. She had situated herself on the marble steps leading to the entryway of the camp, which was blocked by a form of powerful magic that none of the others could quite figure out. 

Beside her was a girl who had arrived earlier that day, a harpy named Marshie. She was white winged harpy, in a dark crop top with a long striped light purple shawl that fell past her shoulders. Her laurel was decorated with small golden sunflowers and sat atop her long strawberry blond hair, some of which had been pulled back to make a cute loose ponytail. Her outfit was finished off with some jean shorts that stopped above her more eagle shaped legs and taloned feet. They had taken time to chat during the wait and already found that they got along rather well.

“I will be your designated camp counselor.” Kaykrea's large, scaled wings spread to frame her sculpted body; her lower serpent body raising the human half to stand tall over all of the campers. “Today will just be a simple meet-and-greet with a tour of the campgrounds. Then we will have a short session with The Oracle later this evening.” 

Many already had looks of admiration or excitement on their faces; except for a man with long shaggy white and red hair off to the side, who simply rolled his eyes at her. She figured that this one may eventually become a problem and mentally noted to keep an eye on him. “First will be introductions, we will start with you.” She stated, pointing at a man with black hair and yellow highlights, frizzed by what appeared to be static. 

The man stood a bit straighter now that the attention was on him, his black eyes widening slightly from being singled out, “I am Mario, son of Zeus, God of storms and lightning!” Mario proclaimed. His looks only pushed the idea. His toga was black and yellow with hints of white under the garment and light blue accents. Lightning motifs could be found in his laurel, arm armor and his white sash in the form of a lightning shaped fibula brooch. Throughout his arms and legs, his veins seemed to glow an electric yellow on his sun-tanned skin. He stood with confidence, almost looking like he was about to burst with unstoppable energy.

The Echidna nodded in approval; a child of Zeus was sure to bring some excitement. “Thank you, Mario. Now you, the one in blue.” She moved on, gesturing to a man with a much shyer demeanor, as he sat much more hunched over compared to the rest of the group.

“Uhm… Jakey, one of the sons of Poseidon.” Jakey mumbled, just loud enough for Kaykrea to glean. Besides the small, high collard coverup on his shoulders, he was shirtless, showing off his swimmer's body. The armor over his left pec was layered and traveled over to part of his back, with large light blue inset jewels glittering in the light. At his hips sat a blue 5-layered skirt-like bottom that split at his right hip, the exposed part of which was covered by a cloth tied to the skirt. His arms and legs were protected by silver armor shaped like fish and similarly jeweled like the rest of his armor; his hands were covered in dark blue fingerless gloves. A tasteful crown was planted in his brown and blue hair with the same light blue gem, his hair had been put into a french-styled braid on both sides of his head that then came together into a long skinny braid in the back. On his back, sat a long bident with jewels spotted on the head, and the end had a shark fin shape.

Kaykrea nodded in satisfaction and was about to move on to the next camper when a new voice joined the group.

Distant shuffling sand could be heard from the distance. “I’m sorry, I’m here, hold on-!” Shouted a young man with short white hair. His ears were pierced with round red earrings and accompanied by golden ear clips covered in rose leaves. His neck was adorned with a red choker. A cropped himation draped over his right shoulder which was pinned by a sort-of star shaped fibula brooch. His two-layered red skirt with gold trim swayed with the movement of his legs. He had shoulder pads that appeared to have rose designs that matched the rose on his dark gray belt, which matched the leather armor on his arms. Small white wings flared from the shoulder pads and his golden shoes. Two hooked swords were connected at the hilts which gave the shape of an S sat on his back along with a small satchel, assumedly a physical god pocket, likely it had all of his other essentials in its magic confines. He skidded to a stop with the rest of the group; bending over to catch his breath, using his knees as support.

“I, huf, apologize, hrff, I was distracted, hooh…” He rushed between labored breaths; his body lightly shook from overexertion.

“And… who might you be?” The orange serpent inquired, drawing out her sentence. 

With one last deep gasp of air, the white-haired man responded, “I’m Bryan, the son of Aphrodite; the goddess of love, beauty and passion herself!” Bryan flicked his hair back haughtily and stood with his head held high. The motion made him look back and lock his eyes onto Jakey. This made him freeze in the middle of his display; a light pink softy grazed his face, and he awkwardly took a few steps back to get a proper look at the other man, honey brown eyes holding an intense stare.

‘…Poor guy…’ Kaykrea sympathized, even though the boy in blue didn't even seem to notice Bryan. However, she quickly corrected herself and went back to the meet-and-greet. “Thank you, Bryan. Now then, let's move on to… you.” She brought attention to a man with ashy skin.

The man with the sides of his head shaved and a braid going down the back of his scalp, a chunk of which was bronze. Thick sideburns lead to a scruffy but well-trimmed beard. He awkwardly lifted his hand in a wave. 

“Ah, Xylo. Son of Apollo.” Xylo greeted. His laurel also had a bronze color, sporting, strangely enough, pomegranate leaves. Bronze spartan armor on his torso and lower legs, along with a layer of leather pteruges at his waist along with shoulder pads that had sun designs glazed on. Over his protective layer there was a bright multi-colored sash, going from a dark purplish blue to a bright sunny yellow curving around his body to also become his belt and dangling the leftover fabric in the front. The cloth was pinned down by bronze peronai on his right shoulder and where the cloth hung off at the belt, they were in the shape of the sun with four points, inside being bright yellow glaze. He had single point claw gauntlets in a similar sun shape attached to thick fingerless leather gloves. At his hips, an open hip cape hung to his knees, a bright pattern depicting a sun in a wavy sky adorned the garment. Another odd part of his look were his dark purple eyes, it almost looked like they didn’t belong, or that he didn’t belong.

Kaykrea had scrunched her nose in frustration, heavy lidded eyes glaring aggressively, bowing her head to show off her dark orange horns at the ashen man. Apollo… Apollo… Mother…

“Ah… thanks.” She bluntly stated.

Xylo had an expression of mild offense but decided to leave it be for the time being.

As the rest of the meeting went on, more of the godly children introduced themselves. A second son of Poseidon named Mitch. He too, lacked a shirt and wore a coverup on the upper part of his torso and wore a far more gaudy golden crown. Although, his face was half covered in black scales. He was much darker than Jakey, with a more deep sea/ocean look to match with his black and blue clothing, with small bioluminescent adornments. He also held the trident, at this mention, Jakey made his own snide remark about poor choices in part on their father. 

The man KayKrea had taken note of earlier was named Brandeen, who was a son of Ares. His style leaned towards more human than Olympian it appeared, not that it was any concern to her as plenty of gods and demi-gods had spent at least some time around mortals and their ever-expanding culture. His overall appearance was dark, his disheveled black and white striped shirt and ripped black pants made up part of his look. A dark red pleather biker jacket with the sleeves measly ripped off, which was accented with smaller bits of a brighter red, brought it all together. Around his arms were bandages with blades tied at the ends that pulsed with divine energy; those must be his weapons.

Further back was a Satyr woman named Relena, the adopted child of Artemis. Her hair was a subtle mix of light and dark brown and subtly blended into the fur on her ears and face; which were both rather animal-like. She was dressed in much more casual human clothing, having a halfway split turquoise and light pink short jacket over a plain white crop top, the pink matching her horns. The jacket had its sleeves ripped off, showing her strong arms. Her jeans were intentionally ripped at her knees, keeping it out of the way of her more animalistic legs and hooved feet. An attempt was made to paint her hooves the same pink as her horns. Slung across her hips sat an ornate silver bow with a quiver of arrows.

At the end of the lineup stood a man almost completely clad in black, battle armor being placed over his original clothing. His name was Brick, one of the very few children of Hades. He had a black war helmet with the holes for the face covered by a bright purple energy. His speech was short and abrupt, only giving his name and heritage in a sharply cold manner.

Kaykrea knew there were other campers yet to arrive, but she had to start with the tour before it got too late in the day. So, with a large flap of her orange wings, she instructed the present campers to follow her for the tour of the grounds. With an expert waver of her hand, she dispelled the magic that blocked off the entrance to the camp.

Entering through the enchanted doors of Camp Oasis, guarded by large spear-wielding statues, they followed a small path. The path led to a sort-of roundabout, which had small sections of path that lead away to other parts of the camp. Surrounding the group was a quaint little garden, and at the roundabout’s center was a marble fountain that poured water as blue as the sky. Many flowers covered the area surrounding the outer rim of the path around the fountain. However, Bryan took particular interest in the Rose bushes.

“Oh, I heard about the nature here!” He exclaimed with adoration and fondness, earning him odd stares from the others. “About how it all seems to live or even thrive! These roses are beautiful, what do you do to make them grow like this?” He would have continued to fawn over the red flowers if he weren't interrupted.

“Bet you sure know a lot about this junk, huh?” Mario taunted. It sounded playful, but that didn’t stop Bryan from shooting the other with a sharp glare.

“Sure do…” The white-haired man mumbled. Mario sucked in his lips, like how one would with something sour, he figured that he shouldn’t have spoken up.

“Alright!” Kaykrea interjected, clapping her hands together to catch the two boys' attention. “Let's get a move on up the path!” She ushered, wanting to avoid a first day conflict.

Up the path was the training area. Fully packed with dummies, targets and even a small sparring ring with a little viewing area. A good handful of campers took potshots at the targets, using either their weapons or godly powers, with varying rates of success and accuracy. Further down was a sports area, consisting of both old Olympic sports and modern human sports. Next to the sports fields were the cabins. They were charming, being made in a rustic style and crafted from the same wood as the surrounding towering trees. She said that cabins would be assigned after the tour, during dinner. Most were able to house two or so people and stood overlooking the surprisingly close gulf that led out into the ocean. Nearby, a dock sat with fishing boats stranded on the shoreline. Fishing equipment had been provided on the dock, along with some outdoor cooking equipment in a small shed nearby. Next was the camp hall, for campers to meet and socialize. A bonfire circle sat just beside the mess hall, it had yet to be lit, although it seemed to have been recently stocked with firewood. 

“This is where we will have our rendezvous after you settle in and have dinner this evening.” She explained, letting everyone gather before continuing. “Then The Oracle will come and give us a free prophecy. Afterwards, you will earn the right to meet with them eventually, but that is a discussion for later throughout your stay.”

Then the mess hall. The Hall was very large, it would have no trouble fitting the entirety of the camp once they were all there. A heavenly smell came from the building, a mixture of sweet and savory that caused the campers mouths to water with anticipation. Finally, was the shower and bathroom area, having both separate and unisex washrooms, and a small bath house.

She pointed to a distant building. It was a small temple, with a securely locked door. So secure in fact that there was no lock, only magic.

“That is where The Oracle resides. You are not to bother them unless you are given passage, or they decide to summon you.” She declared with finality. Asserting that the building was fully off-limits otherwise. 

  With that the campers were released and left to their own devices. Some had gone to chat by the cabins and others went to either look around the camp or to use the training area. Kaykrea herself went to the mess hall to finish preparing for that night's feast.

Soon enough, they were brought back to the mess hall, where an entire buffet was set up. Different tables had different types of food. Fruits and vegetables were set to one side of the buffet. Large fruit bowls held exotic fruits not even native to their part of the world, and the veggies had been grown right on camp property and harvested that day. A range of different meats sat in the middle of the arrangement, from the finest steaks to moist and well-seasoned fowl and poultry, to fish from both fresh and saltwater. At the other end were deserts and drinks. Pies, cakes and pastries alongside juices, nectar and ambrosia. It was now bustling; some others had arrived at the camp over time and joined in on the festive atmosphere.

During this time, Kaykrea went around telling campers to take a card from a small deck. The cards were in pairs of colors and a cabin number, and those with matching pairs would bunk together. On occasion, some did not get a cabin mate, not that any of them seemed to mind, like Mitch. However, most did have two people. Xylo and Jakey, Relena and Brick, even Brandeen had a cabin buddy. Although, she had not learned his roommate's name yet. Glancing around, she could see the Demi-gods socializing, looking for anyone who had a matching card or simply enjoying the food. Bryan approached her to receive his card, fittingly, red. Not that she knew if anyone else had a red card, but she had caught a glimpse at his. She internally chuckled at the mild irony.

“Did anyone else get red?” He inquired over the crowd, causing a brief awkward silence as everyone else double checked their cards.

“Over here!” A voice replied, a hand darting up over the crowd to display their card.

Bryan made his way over to his roommate for the summer. Only to come face-to-face with Mario. He could hardly hide his disappointment. Obviously still salty about the comment made earlier that day. Mario held a poorly disguised expression of awkwardness, not knowing how to tackle the subject. Kaykrea was about to confront the two about perhaps changing cabins before the man in black and yellow asked if the shorter boy would be willing to meet with him outside. With a stiff nod, Bryan followed the fellow demi-god out the door. Just to be safe, the serpent woman discreetly accompanied the two.

The full moon hung at the edge of the sky, the final dim glow of the setting sun moments from vanishing. Cool night breezes chilled the earth from the heat of the summer day. The pair stood in silence, not sure how to begin the conversation. The tension was thick enough to be sliced by any blade. Which Mario dared to do.

“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier… I thought it sounded joking enough, but I could tell it flumped entirely.” He kept his warm black eyes on the ground, not really wanting to see the look the other man was possibly giving him.

“Yeah, I get that.” Bryan spoke blankly, staring off in a random direction. “But it still hit a cord… kinda sounded like my mom…” This came out far more dejected.

“Really? Why would Aphrodite, of all gods, judge flower stuff?” The raven-haired man replied in mild shock.

Kaykrea was inclined to agree, very odd for the goddess of love.

Bryan continued, waving his hand in circles to sort his thoughts. “Not so much the flower thing, more so just not really understanding or accepting my interests…” The other supplied, “Me not being like my siblings… or her.”

“Whoof, I feel you there, my dad doesn’t really give me much thought. Given that he has so many other kids.” Mario chuckled at his little jab at his father; he was right after all, Zeus wasn’t known for his… marital devotion.

Kaykrea had to quickly stifle laughter at the thought. She couldn’t risk getting caught.

“Not to mention that a lot of them have become either legendary heroes or have impacted history in some major way.” Mario ended his sentence with a light huff of amusement and an awkward lean “Those kinds of expectations can make someone pretty awkward huh?” he asked rhetorically, obviously trying to railroad to find common ground. 

Quickly, under his breath the black-eyed man added on, “and dad can’t keep his clothes on so-”. The smug smirk that plastered his face made the other demi-god snerk a little, a light red came to his cheeks and ears in embarrassment as his lips scrunched to a futile attempt to hide his amusement.

“Gross-“ the man in red shot back with a humorous sly grin, gently shoving the other. “-but… same… only with my mom.” He amended, “Anyways, no one likes to think of the goddess of love and beauty being a violent god, despite her history. I just can’t help but wonder about it.” This came in a more soft-spoken cadence, walls starting to fully drop.

“Yeah?” Mario tentatively eased. “I’m sure it must make things awkward?” He raised an eyebrow. Although drama in the Aphrodite family was not surprising, nor unheard of, seeing that outward facade be shelved for honesty and openness took Kaykrea aback slightly. Maybe she shouldn’t have eavesdropped on this conversation. It was beginning to become a little too personal and raw.

Bryan began to lean in, speaking both softer and with sincerity, the haughty persona being fully abandoned before responding.  “Mhm.” He started with a small nod. “You see, I’m a huge fan of the legendary wars and heroes of the past. That led to me digging, especially since my mother was one of the main causes for the biggest war in our history…” his eyes seemed to shine excitedly, passion bleeding from his slight movements and the small grin on his face.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Bryan continued, “I just wanted to understand why we had to throw that part of our past away. Just because our family represents the many forms of love doesn’t mean we couldn't enjoy combat or sparring. Heck, I even got a gift recently that-”.

All of a sudden, Bryan trailed off, his eyes becoming listless, losing that excited bright shine. The feeling of discomfort filled the still air, and his muscles tensed.

“What?” Mario cocked his head, “Something else on your mind?” He pushed.

Bryan backed off, glancing to the side in embarrassment. “Sorry, shouldn’t have said anything…” he muttered under his breath, shoulders sinking subconsciously.

The black clothed man quickly waved his hands, trying to brush off the others embarrassment. “No, no! I was just… uh.” He took a pause; he was ruining this again.

“It’s ok. Not many people know about my mother’s past with war. Especially after The Iliad was published.” The shorter man chuckled, starting to backtrack “But I want to know… even if she doesn't really like me digging into it.” Bryan was standing normally now, a lot more bashful and uncomfortable talking about his family.

Mario planted his hand on the other in a comforting gesture, rubbing small circles into his back. In return, Bryan leaned into the touch slightly, the muscles near his shoulders flexing oddly. It was like he wasn't used to touch, or at least it had been a while since he's been comforted. Although, from what Kaykrea had observed, and her prior experience with the Olympian gods. The awkward nature of the white-haired man seemed to suggest the former.

Bryan lifted his head to look at Mario, taking a small calming breath before speaking again. “To be honest, I don’t think I know much anyway. A lot of my own memories are fuzzy…” This earned him an odd look from Mario, and Kaykrea couldn’t help but do the same. It is rather strange that he would have a bad memory. Was this what the smaller was trying to talk about before? Well, whatever the case may be, the black-haired man let it be and merely nodded in acknowledgment.

It seemed the two had spoken their peace. Overall, a little more comfort had been built between the two. Mario stuck out his hand, offering an apology and a truce to their minor conflict, which Bryan accepted with a small smile. Kaykrea huffed a small sigh of relief, glad that a fight hadn’t broken out on the first day, nor that any enemies were made. She made a quick escape back into the mess hall, moments before the other two made their reentry. It was felt in the room, everyone could tell that whatever issue was happening between the two, it had been sorted out. They went off to join the others again, starting to take far more enjoyment in each other's company than before. At least that was resolved.

About two hours had passed at this point, Kaykrea taking the time to clean up as the festivities came to a close. Many campers had joined together into small groups or cliques and every once in a while, there would be thunderous laughter that would trail back into a comfortable buzz and light chatter. She was frankly quite surprised; no fights, mild and quickly resolved conflicts, and not a single misunderstanding! It was almost as if they were in a normal human camp and not a camp full of physical embodiments of natural concepts. Although she knew that it all had to come to an end soon, it was almost time to meet with The Oracle and she needed to pick up the mess hall before then.

“Okay, everyone!” Kaykrea called, waiting for the campers' conversations to end before she announced, “It is almost time to meet The Oracle, I would like all of you to go to your cabins and drop off your things, decide who wants what bed and such. We will meet back at the bond fire, I will move on with the night whether you make it or not, so be there if you wish to listen to The Oracles’ predictions.” With that, she went to clean the tables of the leftover dishes and scraps of food.

The campers had left for their cabins to drop off their things and to get sorted before heading to the large bonfire. When it seemed that all had arrived, Kaykrea used her flaming blade to ignite the kindling, and soon enough, a fire was brought to life. The flame was large and danced with the slight breeze of the night. Cracks and pops from the wood soon followed, allowing the meeting to officially begin. Xylo, with hardly any regard for the current evening event, suddenly pulled out a large bag of marshmallows, announcing a query of whether anyone wanted some. Most around the fire whooped at the human treat, receiving their share from the armored man.

Mitch had grabbed two and offered one to Jakey, who had taken it upon himself to grab his own from the son of Apollo rather than accepting one from his brother, Mitch practically looked scandalized. Mario had done the same with Relena, who happily accepted the offer, and Bryan, who simply denied the sugar pillow after giving it a questioning glance of uncertainty. Brandeen seemed all too eager to receive the food from the violet-eyed man. The two had been talking a lot earlier and appeared to have hit it off in some fashion, although Xylo did give him a standoffish look. Kaykrea was far from amused, seeing how all began to disregard what this meeting was about. She simply rolled her eyes and slithered away when Xylo attempted to offer her the bag's contents. In return, he merely shrugged and received a plush confectionary for himself.

The fire in the center of the gathering began fully burning in a bright blend of reds, oranges and yellows. Accenting the woman's appearance and making her look just as bright as the flames. With a faux clearing of her throat, she called to attention all of the present campers for the night's announcements.

“I’m sure some of you all are anticipating the reason as to why we are out so late.” She began, more so wanting to give a reminder to the campers. She continued “First, I do have a few announcements. Starting off, in a few days we will be having the Trial of Ares, which will be a sort of… death match.” This statement brought a few panicked faces and alarmed exclamations to the campers “However, with less… death involved. Close to death, I should say.” Her amendment melted some tension, but the atmosphere still weighed heavy in the group. “It will allow us to see who is at the top, and where others' experiences lie before we get into the real training.” Uncertainty followed the final word of the first announcement, nervous glances were shared between the others.

“Will we get anything?” Was a quick question from Xylo.

“Excuse me?” Came the indigent reply from the camp counselor.

“If one of us wins the trial. Do we get anything?” He clarified.

“That will be discussed at a later time” Was the firm response from the brunette woman.

“Now then. Secondly, as you all know, there is a special guest for you all tonight. They would like to pay a visit to all of you.” Suddenly the meeting area was filled with gasps of awe and excited mermers at Kaykrea’s reveal, some nodding that they did, in fact, remember the prior mention. “There is a message that they would like to give you all, a prophecy.” Her voice suddenly hardened as she followed up with a demand. “I do ask that as a way to show respect to The Oracle, you must stay completely silent, and to not have… snacks, while they are here…” This prompted Xylo to quickly hide the bag of marshmallows and for everyone else to swiftly finish their part of the treat. “Are we clear?” The serpent finished, allowing for any present questions.

Xylo ended up asking another query, the primary one on everyone’s minds. “What if we have questions about what they say?” Soon pipings of agreements followed and Kaykrea was quick to respond.

“There will be no questions for The Oracle at this time.” she asserted. “Although, perhaps in the future, but not today. Am I clear?” She took a pause so the campers could give their affirmation, albeit tentatively. “Alright. Introducing… The Oracle.” The winged woman slithered back as the flames of the bonfire began to grow unnaturally, responding to the approaching powerful presence. The once gentle breeze started to pick up and blow back locks of hair. Even the moon appeared to shine brighter as a soft flapping of wings could be heard just over the cracking and popping of the fire. A small shadow formed in the glowing space above the flames, and as it came closer to the light, The Oracle was revealed.

They were small, looking no bigger than the length of an arm vertically and horizontally if the wings and tail were fully stretched out. Right, they had a tail, covered in small iridescent scales that transitioned from black to a deep blue to a bright green, speckled throughout were small white spots, it’s unclear if those were the scales shining or just part of the pattern. Underneath was a black belly with long smooth scales that came up to the main ‘head’. The bat-like wings shared similar traits to the tail, with the black, blue, green with white speckles, pattern. Their head could hardly be considered a ‘head’, since it was just a single large eyeball. The unnerving sight was only enhanced by the odd shaped iris and pupil, which had the shapes of diamonds. The iris itself shared the previous color pattern of the tail and wings. The eyelashes themselves didn’t help either, being large and thick. The top half was long and had two protruding chunks on either side that enhanced the bat-like look. The bottom came to multiple sharp points. Large openings where the eyelids met showed the connective corners. It all was so disproportionate and unnatural, yet here they were, right in front of the small crowd.

A voice, as soft and smooth as the nearby ocean waves, whispered through the open air. Despite not having a mouth, The Oracle spoke as though projecting their message straight into the minds of the camp's inhabitants. “Ah, and so arrive the children of the gods…” Like a knife through butter, the voice cut through the silence, demanding the attention of all those present. The single eye glanced with a piercing gaze over the group, barely stopping on anyone specific. But still, The Oracle already was seeing the future of the campers. “How interesting… hmh… very interesting.” The eye began to glow in rings, looking like the flaring of the sun when looked at through a window or from a recording. The fire began to build, and the smoke rose in large plumes as the small bat-serpent form took to hovering over the pit. Finally, they spoke of what they were seeing. “Darkness looms over the future for one of you, and with it will come terror and destruction. Greatness follows another, a coming day where you will become a great hero. But, not without great loss of those who you love and believe to be close friends. And one of you will assist to break open the earth, and free The Titans from Tartarus. The Future is filled with bloodshed.”

With the final declaration from The Oracle, the fire suddenly is extinguished, leaving all to be shrouded in the darkness of night. The Prophecy held very few good omens it seemed. An unnerving silence filled the air as the small eyeball-bat disappeared into the star-filled sky, swiftly blending in and vanishing from the scene. Soon hushed whispers filled the area as uncertainty and fright began to grow. Kaykrea was quick to initiate the ending statements for the night and sent the campers back to their designated cabins to rest. Although, it would best be assumed that not many got much rest, whether if it was discussing the words of the Oracle, concerns on the upcoming trial, finishing unpacking, or ponderings on how the summer may be more interesting than at first predicted.

Kaykrea stood at the shoreline straddling the camp, nearby was The Oracle’s abode, where the small creature was resting. She didn’t want the others to see, but the prophecy frightened her. She knew that the lives of gods and demi-gods could get dangerous, but… bloodshed… terror… The Titans. What would this mean? Was everyone here doomed right as they crossed the threshold? Perhaps even before they arrived? Not only that, but nothing said that The Oracle was safe either. It appears that maybe She has bitten more than she could chew. But she would do anything for the camp, anything for The Oracle.

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Please watch the original Origins of Olympus series, while this story does make major changes; the series made by the Origins MCRP crew is important to understanding the Reimagining, and it's good to support the original material if you can. It's free on YouTube with multiple perspectives. If you see any way that I can improve my writing, or any grammar/spelling mistakes please let me know!

[catmask]

does anyone have like an anti aesthetic. like something you look at and can recognize as a complete fashion/interior design/artistic movement and understand it but it makes you shudder seeing it. i am not talking like “its morally bad” “its poorly structured” like just sheerly devoid of joy for you actually invites a repulse response.

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[bearsandswears]

Revisiting the conversation you can have with Gale about Halsin’s proposition. I think it should be worse.

[bluegiragi]

mask off.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[cryptidorchid]

Okay, but Scott being unsure whether the Third Life marriage question was talking about him and Jimmy is so funny to me.

Scott: I mean I called him my husband the entire season and explicitly said "we're married" and wrote "Beloved Husband" on his grave... which could mean nothing

[bardicbird]

a little siffrin comic about touch, violence, and oranges

[keferon]

Did you think I was done? Ahahahaha no, I have more.

Because chapter 70 of MOMU gave me the very dynamic between them that I missed so much, I just blacked out and started drawing uncontrollably lmao

Also. ALSO. I noticed a while ago that Prowl has the habit of..like…constantly frowning. So. I did a bit of research and made this graph.

In 70 chapters, Prowl frowns rougly 104 times. And the intensity of this gesture is very clearly correlated with the development of his relationship with Jazz, as you can see ahahahahah It might be wrong tho don’t take me seriously I’m not good with graphs

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[insirisarts]

Origins of Olympus - Reimagined

Chapter 2: (Not) So Nice to Meet You!

(art to be added later)

The camp tour had come to an end not too long ago. Xylo had taken his horse, Shadow, and began to wander around the camp. With each step his thoughts began to wander, he was lucky to find the steed after they were separated during a minotaur encounter on his way to the camp. Godly powers tended to leave a distinct signature that certain companions and creatures could follow. It had made tracking down the horse easier, along with the loud anxious squeals of the animal. It took a lot of snacks and a good petting session to calm Shadow down.

The image of the minotaur combusting into flames was still fresh in Xylo’s mind. He could clearly remember the roaring shrieks of the monster. He wasn’t even sure if it was dead or not. He didn’t see it die. Something had been wrong with it as well. Minotaurs' were already territorial, but this one had behaved almost rabid…

He considered himself to be very lucky, a little bit of bruises and mud was worth getting out of that encounter alive. At the sound of a content snort from the horse, he was brought back from his thoughts.

Xylo figured that it would be best to get to know the other demi-gods. While he wasn’t the best at making small talk, he figured it would be in his best interests to at least be able to know the others' names and tie them to their faces. Well, he would have if everyone else hadn’t gone off to do their own things. Some had gone to the beach, but Most of them had meandered back to the cabins or to the beach area. He couldn’t see what the people by the cabins were doing due to the trees, but he could only assume they were just exploring and getting an idea of the cabin interiors. 

He remembered the rustic look of the small buildings. Rectangular in shape, with flat and stout, A-frame roofs. Each one had a section of balcony that curved around part of the structure, simply decorated with a small wooden table and two chairs. There were openings in the balconies that had small sections of stairs that lead straight to the door. The cabins all had windows, however, they also seemed to have blinds, so Xylo hadn’t been able to look inside. The most he could do was assume the insides were simple but cozy.

Catching himself spacing out again, Xylo shook his head and refocused his efforts on looking around. Most of the area was trees, very tall trees. He didn’t recognize the types, whether the reason was magic or exotic, he didn’t really care. There was also plenty of shrubbery and smaller plants, similarly magic or exotic, but he could see some that he knew. Finally, he finished his one-eighty spin.

He could now see the beach area, and he even managed to spot Jakey and Mitch. They, and the small group with them, were checking out the dock. It had an old, aged look to it, dark water-stained hardwood coated in algae, lichen and muscles. Despite the obvious age, it looked to still hold up quite well. Some were also looking at the various beach related games present. The lighter blue man even took a moment to submerge himself in the water, closely followed by his brother. While tempted to join them, Xylo wasn’t interested in getting sand in his shoes again. He had gotten enough from the desert. Sighing quietly, he continued further into the camp.

As he glanced around, he spotted Bryan near the path that led to the training grounds and bathhouses. Stepping closer, he could hear the shorter man speaking to… no one? Well, there is a small flock of sheep that held his attention. Was Bryan talking to the sheep? Xylo squinted his eyes, looking at the shorter man, focusing on his mouth. Yep, he was talking to the sheep.

Xylo decided it was best to leave him be. After all, everyone knows better than to get caught up in crazy. As he turned to walk away, he found he could pick out bits and pieces of the one-sided conversation; something about ‘Protecting them from the more violent sorts.’ or ‘Thank you’s for ‘Sharing that info with me, little guy!’, followed by loving head pats. Xylo just shook his head and moved to leave. Shadow, however, began to cock his head to the side with perked ears as the distant man talked absently. Still, Xylo felt it was best to leave Bryan to himself.

He briefly thought about Mario and his satyr friend, ‘What was her name again?’, but he recalled that they went off to look at the perimeter of the camp. Xylo himself had already taken a glance around the surrounding wall before the tour, so he didn’t think it was worth it to bother looking for them. He figured that there would be other times for him to catch up with either of them. 

Kaykrae, or ‘Kay’ as he had taken to calling her, had promptly vanished into the mess hall after the tours’ conclusion. Although, he didn’t mind as much since she seemed to not really like him that much. That left the son of Apollo with very few options in which to spend his time. Xylo crossed off another mental box. He tried to look deeper into his mind for who he wanted to see or where he wanted to go, not finding much coming to him.

Walking Shadow had done its work in killing some time, but one could only walk by themself for so long before it became boring and rather sad. Xylo sighed as he scratched his beard with his thumb and index, lightly rubbing over the scruffy parts on the sides of chin. There really wasn’t much for him to do was there? No one was around for him to talk to at the moment, walking was not cutting it anymore, he had already seen most of the camp.  What was there to do?

His eyes were drawn to the distant bright colors of the sparring arena near the training grounds. ‘Well, I don’t want to get rusty I suppose’ he distantly thought. Slowly making his way down the path.

Xylo came to a stop in front of the target section of the training area, he had gone ahead and loosely tied Shadow to a nearby post, allowing the steed room to idly graze on some grass. Meanwhile, he attempted trick shots with his bow and tore into the dummies with his clawed gauntlets. His arrows managed to hit the targets, albeit barely most of the time. Despite his heritage, he was never a good shot. Swapping again, he tore through the dummies with ease, even without the use of the single claws on his fists, his hands made quick work of the thickly stuffed hardened leather.

“Hey.” At the same time a new voice spoke up behind him. As he turned around -and very much not jumping and gasping in surprise, thank you-, he locked eyes with Mitch, the darker son of Poseidon he had seen earlier. Xylo hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, so now he took the chance to take in the other parts of his appearance. The dark-blue man stood to be at a similar height to him, only just slightly shorter, although his gold crown did add on a few inches. He matched Jakey to a point. He had dark blue hair, rather than just dyed tips, a shawl, and heterochromia; his right eye being a mix of a dark purple sclera, magenta iris and white pupil, and a far more normal-looking dark blue on his left. A piercing on his nose bridge helped fill in the space between his eyes. His mouth was covered by a mask on the shawl he wore. There also appeared to be a pair of shark-like fins on the man’s back mixed in with tiny scales covering spots of his torso and face in patches. He looked to be far more fitting for the deep sea and not the land.

“Hello?” Xylo replied, a questioning turn to his voice. “Are you here to also use the dummies n’ stuff? If so…uh-” as he turned to gesture to the training grounds, he finally noticed the carnage he left; hay, sand and stuffing littered the area, and it looked like a bull had run a rampage through it. Lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck he continued “-Well, I was going to offer to let you take part of the place, but I don’t think I noticed just how much damage I did…” he ended his comment by lowering his shoulders. Frankly, he felt pretty bad.

“No, no, it’s fine. I didn’t plan on using any of this stuff yet.” Mitch replied, waving his hand dismissively. “Just thought you could use a buddy to chat with.” he ended with a laugh.

“Ah… y’know what? Yah, I could go for a chat. I probably need to take a break anyway.” Xylo agreed, nodding his head in the direction of the nearby bleachers sitting in front of the sparring arena.

As they settled down, Xylo took a moment to stretch, a loud crack coming from his back, followed by a big sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized just how stiff he’d gotten. Thinking of it, he hadn’t gotten time to relax at all since his encounter with the minotaur. As he sat down, he could feel his legs burn slightly from finally getting the chance to rest after hours of overuse. He groaned involuntarily, as his body fell semi-limp.

Mitch chuckled at his dramatics. Rolling his shoulders to relieve tension as he shifted on the stiff wooden structure, making the old sun-bleached wood creak. He looked over to Xylo with a lift to his eyes, giving away a hidden grin despite his face covering.

“Funny man you are, bein’ all dramatic! What? Went on a ten-mile hike before coming here or something?” The masked man jabbed, a mild sarcasm to his voice.

“Definitely an ‘or something’” Xylo returned exhaustedly; he felt himself relax further into the bleachers. ‘Man, who would have thought that old hardwood could be so comfy.’ He thought briefly.

Mitch continued to eye him. Gaze flitting between him and to the side, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. His hands, which sat planted on the junction between his knees and thighs, flapped with soft patting sounds following each repetition of the action. The guy was very obviously nervous. A soft whistle of air left him before he spoke.

“So, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others; but -uh, you are a son of Apollo, right?” Mitch questioned, not necessarily sounding aggressive or accusatory; but, all the same, Xylo heaved a loud, annoyed sigh. This caused the blue-haired man to lean back and look away awkwardly. He laughed dismissively before speaking again. “I-I don’t mean anything by it! Just wondering because -uh, not to be rude; but you don’t look like you go outside, like, ever.” He finished off, exaggerating a shrug.

Xylo shot him an annoyed look, having gotten this question plenty of times. It was always over one thing or another about him. His ashy skin, his violet eyes, his incompetence in archery, and even his preference for the later parts of the day. It always came back to questions about his heritage. Frankly, he just believed that his other parent was merely not as aligned with the sun and daytime as his father, though he’s never really felt the inclination to tell anyone that information. He also never really believed it to be anyone else's business, he didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Often, he refused to acknowledge questions like that usually.

Truthfully, he has never felt like an Apollo kid. He had never managed to bond with his siblings, nor did he have any of the primary Apollo traits, no gift of prophecy, he hardly understood medicine, and he often found himself drifting towards staying up during the evening and night, and he felt far more drawn to the miasma of plague over cursing mortals with it. He never could understand the ways of his father. But, no matter what, those issues were his own. He did not wish to share them.

He could tell that Mitch was getting uncomfortable with his staring. Good. His family life was honestly no one’s business. However, the awkwardness was getting to him as well. Maybe just something small to explain his discomfort with the topic. Get the other to drop it.

He simply stated, “I am, and there is nothing else to it.” It was sharp and cold, hopefully getting his message across. From the looks of it, it did. Mitch simply nodded and muttered a short apology.

Xylo took a moment to calm himself. Breathing slowly and leaning back so that he was effectively laying down on the next level of bleachers behind him. Lifting his hand, he used it to lightly rub away the sweat on his face before letting it brush up over his scared eye, through his hair, and behind his head to act as a pillow. His eyes were shut now, letting himself take in the rays of the sun for a moment. Finally, he cracked open his eyes slightly to look at the other man, who had decided to lean himself against the railing of the bleachers.

“Listen, I get it, but it’s really none of your business, man.” Xylo addressed Mitch in a resigned manner.

“I understand; my bad.” Mitch ended off his statement with a humorless chuckle before huffing out an anxious breath.

A stifled swear gave both men pause as they looked to the noise's origin. Kay was on the path leading to the mess hall, on the ground were assorted fruits and vegetables, likely dropped by the older women. Swiftly, Xylo and Mitch made their way to the echidna’s side, leaning down to help retrieve the fallen produce. She quietly readjusted herself as she took back what she lost. With everything now more secured in her arms, she stiffly nodded with a huff then continued on her way.

“You think she’s got a problem with us, or is she just… like that? Maybe just a bad day?” Mitch commented once Kay was out of earshot. Looking to his companion and nudging his head in the direction the serpent women went.

“I’m not sure.” Xylo shrugged, “I think it's first-day jitters or something. She’s not used to all of this excitement.” He vaguely gestured to the outdoors in front of them.

“Sounds about right…” The blue man agreed. Stretching his arms out above his head, he followed up with a strained groan to his voice, “Whelp-, wanna follow up on that offer earlier? We could see who has the worse aim.” He joked, summoning his trident and lifting into view. 

“Sure, I could do to kill some more time anyways.” The armored man agreed as they made their way back to the targets.

Hours had passed and it was coming to the hottest point of the day. Xylo took the time to look for any nearby stables but found there to be none. He could always ask later he supposed. For the time being, he left Shadow tethered in a well shaded spot, and with Mitches water abilities, managed to fill a nearby barrel with cool fresh water. The horse puffed contently, satisfying Xylo with his work. With one last firm pat to the steed's shoulder, he left to continue his little competition with the other man.

The two had seen new campers arrive over time and betted over who they thought they were the kids of. But otherwise, none had come to talk to the pair.

The day continued on as they found ways to try and one-up one another with their ways of eviscerating dummies and tearing targets to shreds. Xylo had been taking his time with a particular dummy, tossing it around and attempting to strike it in midair. However, as he was going in for the finishing blow, a blade tied to long, wide, white fabric struck straight through the leather and pulled it away. It was pulled to the ground and tugged until it stopped under a scuffed red tennis shoe. The shoe lifted then suddenly stomped down on the head of the dummy with a muted crack, causing sand to fly in all directions.

Finally lifting their eyes, both men saw one of the campers from the tour. If Xylo remembered correctly, his name was Brandeen. His face was contorted into a sly smirk, showing off his sharp canines. A black laurel came up to form the shape of foreboding horns on his head. His long white and red hair had been tied back into a messy ponytail, likely in anticipation of using the training grounds. He let out a boisterous laugh as he stepped over the fallen dummy and approached the other two demi-gods with long, confident strides. The tethered blade was spun in large, lazy circles at his side. He truly fit the criteria of a child of Ares.

“Well-” He began “-Xylo and Mitch, yes?” He stated in a far-too-proud tone, aiming his sharp red eyes at the respective person he was addressing. “The sons of Apollo and Poseidon. Have to say, it’s an honor.” He continued, in an almost taunting manner. One hand sat planted on his hip, his chest puffed out, attempting to show his muscles through his shirt and the thick material of his pleather jacket. A large platinum chain necklace clinking around his neck as he moved.

Having been taken aback by the sudden arrival of a third person, Xylo sputtered, struggling to find the words to counter the red man's abrasive attitude. Although, the moment had been taken from him once again as Brandeen came to meet him in a far too close face-to-face. Despite his confident demeanor, the man had to adjust his gaze to meet Xylo’s eyes. Although, that didn’t stop him from attempting to step down onto the taller man's exposed toes. Xylo had just barely managed to pull his foot out of the way of the oncoming shoe.

He scoffed at the boy in front of him, agitated at the overconfidence and aggressive attempts to provoke him. He steadied his breath and did his best to hide the frustration he was feeling.

Brandeen responded in kind, an airy chuckle slipping past his clenched teeth. Breaking the eye contact he held with Xylo, his head lazily drifted over the mess of a training area the sons of Apollo and Poseidon had left. Like Xylo had left it earlier, only if a small tornado had run through it afterwards to rub salt into the dummies' unfelt wounds. The abrasive man whistled at the mess and shook his head as that smarmy smirk returned to his face.

“Damn, you two did some damage here, didn’t ya?” He mused rhetorically. “Now imagine if it was a battlefield!” He gleamed, eyes shining at the prospect of bloodied battle.

Xylo glanced at Mitch, seeing that his companion held a reserved uncomfortable expression. Mitch returned the action, likely seeing the same look on Xylo’s own face. They both were not welcoming the new company so far.

“Aw-, are you two not big fans of that idea?” Brandeen continued, His smirk sharpening slightly before his face finally relaxed into a more lax grin and his body falling into a slight slouch. His demeanor had done a full one-eighty, becoming far more subdued. While he still looked confident, his body language read as less challenging. The tethered blade he had been slinging now hung loosely and his shoulders were pulled back along with his back in a mild lean. His hands raised in a placating manor, lightly pushing at the air. “Alright, alright, sorry” He pacified, no longer having a sharp sting to his voice. “Should have seen your faces though; gold. Pure gold.” he chuckled.

The other two demi-gods looked at the pleather-clad man, unimpressed. Xylo, despite his best efforts, let out a deep sigh. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he prompted a stiff “What do you want?” As much as he didn’t want the frustrating man in front of him to see, Xylo could feel his patience visibly waning.

Brandeen’s eyebrows quirked slightly, and the corners of his mouth tightened, a minor expression of amusement. “Do I gotta want something to strike up a chat?” He challenged. 

Xylo couldn’t help but feel put off by the red man. Something about him felt wrong. The cold distant look in his eyes, even during his moments of exclamation. Only matched by the vague stiffness to his muscles, even when relaxed; something that a man who moves like he does wouldn’t have. Even his skin -pardoning Xylo’s own hypocrisy- was strangely pale. His gut was telling him to not humor the shorter man. But, at the same time, he felt bad for immediately possessing such harsh judgements, even if his first impression of the other wasn’t the best.

He bit his lip just a little too harshly, stepping back and rolling his shoulders to release his stress. Sill, something felt wrong. He was obviously strong, but his muscles seemed to lack the trademark definition of that strength. Despite his chosen form of fashion, he didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, not even seeming to sweat. His body moved in a way that was almost mannequin-esque, going from one pose to the next. Something was wrong. He knew that something was wrong. He just couldn’t place it.

Xylo continued to look over the man in front of him scrutinizingly, trying to figure out why he seemed so wrong. Only to have his concentration broken by a hand clasping his shoulder.

It seemed to be at this point that Mitch decided to step in, waving out his hand in view of the two before moving between them. “Hay, yah, so I think we all got off on the wrong foot here.” The covered man eased. “But I think we should all have a seat and get proper introductions out of the way, alright?” Despite the lift in his tone, Mitch had left little room for argument as he began his trek to the same sun-bleached wooden bleachers that he and Xylo sat on earlier. His shoulders relaxed as he heard two sets of footsteps follow him.

“So, a son of Aries, yah?” Xylo tested, even though he already knew the answer.

“Bingo.” Brandeen replied simply.

“Mmh” Xylo hummed, it looked like he wouldn’t be getting anything out of the guy yet.

The bleachers came into reach allowing each member of the trio to settle along the first lengthy portion of wood, Mitch at the end with Xylo to his side. A small amount of distance stretched between them and Brandeen, who was closer to the middle of the sitting space.

Now that they were seated, Xylo couldn’t help but take in more of the newcomer. While he didn’t appear awkward, there was now a strain to his expression that hadn’t been visible before. Xylo tilted his head as he caught a subtle sideways glance from the warmonger. While he trusted his gut and knew that he shouldn’t let down his guard around the man, he couldn’t help the twist in his stomach over his judgment of Brandeen. Why did this man make him feel so uneasy? It wasn’t just the behavior from earlier, he could tell that wasn’t it. Nor was it his slightly off appearance and body language. There was just this… off aura about him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, what was the word?

“Look any harder and your brain’ll explode.”

“What?” Xylo reeled. Had he been staring that hard?

“You look like you're trying to pick me apart with your mind, what’s up?” Brandeen leaned back lazily onto an outstretched arm, drifting his gaze to the armored man. “You ain’t subtle, Sunset” he addressed. At this point his face had fallen into a relaxed neutral expression, eyes half lidded as he maintained eye contact. 

“Sunset?” Xylo echoed, stone faced and flat.

“Well… you don’t exactly look like the embodiment of sunshine.” Mitch butted in, shrugging his shoulders.

Xylo grunted a stunted response, choosing not to indulge the topic. “I don’t know how to feel about you, Buddy. You didn’t exactly give me much of a reason to like you…” He bristled at the look Brandeen gave him. The, at this point, frustrating man had an amused lift to his features. Although, his expression was soon schooled as he laxly leaned over himself partly and clasped his hands.

“Alright, yah, fair enough-” Brandeen nodded in detached agreement. “-Nothing against you, more so… testing the waters.” He chuckles quietly, motioning his hand in lazy circles.

Xylo dipped his head side-to-side amicably. While he still didn’t necessarily have any good feelings about the man of war, he felt it was best to avoid antagonizing him for the time being. Instead, he chose to continue studying the man.

“-You know how it is, Gods and fights for dominance- hay!” he shot up and snapped his fingers, a far more natural grin spread across his face “That would be a good way to meet everyone properly! A big ‘ol group sparring match!” His body widened at the suggestion, arms spreading and legs kicking out to visibly express the scope of his sudden idea.

Xylo found himself doubting the intentions of Brandeen’s idea. He didn’t think that the guy went out of his way to talk to people unless he could get a reaction or a favor out of it. Considering his behavior earlier, he likely just wanted to see bloodshed.

“Right” Xylo drawled, absently scratching at his scruff.

“Aaahh, I’ll iron it out later!” Brandeen dismissed. He stood from his position on the bench, stretching his back, earning some soft pops from his spine as he did so. “Whelp, since the targets are a bust, guess I'll be seeing you two later.” With one last salute, the man in red was on his way. Still seated on the bleachers, the original two campers watched blankly as the man drifted down the path away from the training grounds.

The two leftover men glanced at each other before looking at the forgotten mess laid before them. Without saying a word, they both left their seats and proceeded to separate sections. Mitch busied himself with cleaning the strewed stuffing, straw, and leather. Meanwhile, Xylo got to work clearing the targets of projectiles and replacing the dummies with ones he found in the nearby storage building. Even if the work would be shabby, it was better than leaving the area how it was.

The pair had just finished their work when a booming horn sounded over the camp. Looking to the direction the sound came from; they could just barely see Kay standing in front of the building Xylo remembered being the mess hall. Quickly, he realized that it must have been the call for dinner. He looked down and began to dust himself off while going into a light blind jog, soon followed by Mitch, doing a similar motion. All they could recall of the meal was the wide expenses of food and the drawing cards for roommates.

Xylo frankly could not relax during the bonfire, he still hadn’t gotten the chance to chat up the other campers, not even during dinner. He had believed that his offering of a human snack, ‘Marshmallows’ if he remembered correctly, would help, but it had barely done anything to release the tension in his gut. Brandeen also seemed to be sticking close. It wasn’t in the ‘staying close because I know you and I’m awkward’ way, but rather a ‘I’m studying you for the future’ way. It was made even worse when Kay would be so cage-y when answering his questions. The worst part, however, were the foreboding warnings given by The Oracle. He couldn't help his relief when the event finally came to a close.

That’s where the day left him now, with Xylo standing in front of the cabins he still had yet to truly look at. He had finally found the stables and had left Shadow to rest in them. Beside him was Mitch’s younger brother, Jakey. They had drawn the same-colored cards during the banquet and were now roomed together for the summer. If He could notice his and Mitch’s minor height difference, then he could tell he dwarfed Jakey. Not only in height, but in body mass too. The guy was built to be a swimmer, thin with long limbs, and his sparse clothing only served to make him seem smaller. More streamlined. Xylo believed he could snap the guy in half if he really felt the need. The only thing that threw him off was the shorter man’s pale complexion; he expected that from the more deep-sea appropriate Mitch, not the light river-like colored Jakey.

Either way, Xylo was too tired to truly care at that moment, and so too was his roommate.

Jakey immediately stumbled towards the closest bed, falling face first into the sheets and groaning in exhaustion. Xylo could relate honestly; his muscles and head were killing him. Spending his entire day from before sunrise till after sunset either on his feet or having social interactions had almost fully drained him. He simply waved his hand to open his small godly pocket storage and threw out his belongings just so he could get to his personal pillow and finally lay down in the other bed. He would worry about looking at the cabin interior in the morning.

Quietly, as he slowly drifted into the heavy beginnings of sleep, his mind slipped into thoughts of earlier in the afternoon with Mitch and Brandeen. Something was still bothering him about the whole interaction. Brandeen still found the ability to worm his way into Xylo’s mind. What was the feeling? It was wrong, he knew it was wrong. What is it? What is it?

Xylo shuffled uncomfortably in his bed, laying on his back and clasping his hands on his stomach. His face was now covered in sweat as he stared at the ceiling. Something deeper was going on at this camp. Their godly parents had to have known; they had to.

Xylo doubted he would be getting any actual restful sleep that night.

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Please watch the original Origins of Olympus series, while this story does make major changes; the series made by the Origins MCRP crew is important to understanding the Reimagining, and it's good to support the original material if you can. It's free on YouTube with multiple perspectives. If you see any way that I can improve my writing, or any grammar/spelling mistakes please let me know!

[ministarfruit]

I love that marcille and mithrun go to therapy together… they can be buddies I believe it

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[technically-human]

Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?

Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?

It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3

Glad you asked

ko-fi

[casscainmainly]

God this panel kinda drives me crazy. From Batman & the Outsiders #17, Shiva asks Duke about his suit, whether it was his choice. And how does Duke respond? He... doesn't. He parrots what is clearly something Bruce said to him, but never clarifies whether it was 'his choice' at all. Because both him and Shiva know it wasn't. And he acknowledges that his suit, with all the Batty-ness (ears, symbol), was specifically designed to make him like Batman.

Then Shiva suggests dark red, which is what Duke wore in We Are Robin and has connotations to Robin as a whole. Duke's reaction - can we let it go? - can be read in many ways, but to me it suggests Shiva's words hit home. He does miss the Robin colours. Becoming the Signal wasn't his choice, but becoming Robin was.

(And throughout this run, Shiva says both Cass and Duke are being held back by Bruce. With Cass this is a clear allusion to being Orphan over Batgirl, so it's not farfetched to read this conversation as being about how Duke was denied Robin to become Signal).

Duke-as-Signal is a symbol of 'people like Batman', but Duke-as-Robin was a symbol of youth, of community, of diversity and of choice. He was a Robin formed without Batman. I know there's no going back, but having Bruce choose the name, the suit, and the time of day that Duke goes out makes the Signal such a fraught identity. I love the yellow, the suit, and the daytime aspect, but I just wish they were Duke's choices, not Bruce's.